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Time is a medium...

“Time is a medium” is what artists/tutors Dan and Faye said repeatedly during my two years studying at Newlyn School of Art. At first, I wasn’t entirely sure what they meant, but gradually, with time, it came into focus. And with time, its resonance with my coaching practice emerged.


Photo:  Nathan Dumlao (Unsplash)
Photo: Nathan Dumlao (Unsplash)

So, what did they mean? Let’s break it down. In art, a medium is the substance you create with, for example, oil or watercolour, charcoal or ink, mixed with other elements (also called medium just to confuse things) to adjust viscosity, drying time, texture, or blending ability. Different tools, techniques, and surfaces all interact with the chosen medium in unique ways.

 

And then, just to keep us on our toes, they throw time into the mix.  That both the passage of time, and how we use time, influence the final outcome.

 

In the context of painting, consider this:

  • A fast, wild stroke creates a completely different effect than a slow, deliberate one. You can often tell just by looking at the mark on the canvas.

  • A short burst of energetic, loose work yields a different result than slow, controlled precision.

  • If you start too tight and meticulous in an abstract piece, you might box yourself in before you’re ready to explore.

  • Acrylic paint dries quickly—it forces the artist to work fast, building layers rapidly with little risk of muddiness.  Oil paint, on the other hand, dries slowly. It allows for blending, reworking, and patience. Move too fast, and you might ruin the whole piece. Both oil and acrylic work with additives (mediums) that can extend or speed up the drying time.  It’s like magic.

  • Stepping away from a painting for weeks  - or even months or years – can completely shift your perspective. Rushing to the finish line often stifles the magic that time can reveal.



So, what does this ‘time as a medium’ concept have to do with coaching?

 

Everything.

 

Coaching, like art, is shaped by how we use time and our relationship with it.

Personally, this is a something of a challenge for me. In Transactional Analysis terms, I have a strong Hurry Up driver. I move fast. I work fast. As a kid, I loved roller skating and cycling downhill because I got a thrill from the whoooosh. I used to think fast too (maybe now not so much). But as I’ve developed as a coach, I’ve learned to step back, reflect, and ponder before rushing in.

 

Sometimes, I encounter coaching clients who are in a terrible hurry. They’re all about the rush—wanting to meet frequently, to ‘get it done,’ to move quickly from A to B. Bish, bash, bosh. I always find this urgency fascinating, and I challenge it. More often than not, it mirrors how they live their lives and show up at work. But playing out that same pattern in coaching won’t help. We need to change the tempo.

 

Do we rush into problem-solving, or do we sit with the discomfort of uncertainty? One of the most powerful things I learned during my year of study in coaching supervision was Otto Scharmer’s Theory U. It taught me that coaching is not about rushing to the answers or controlling the process. Instead, it’s about sitting with uncertainty—holding space with an open heart, open mind, and open will—trusting that something valuable will emerge. When we hurry, we lose that emergence, and with it, the deeper learning.

 

Taking time to reflect, breathe, and process often leads to richer insights. A quick decision might feel bold and energizing, but it can also be reckless, missing the opportunity for real transformation. Some coaching models emphasize the importance of generating and playing with options rather than jumping straight to solutions. Cartesian coordinates, for example, can be a wonderful tool for expanding perspective.

 

Patience is a skill, and as coaches, we must practice it. Being present. Sitting with ambiguity. Learning to be comfortable with not knowing. Resisting the urge to be right or have all the answers.

 

Progress isn’t always visible, but that doesn’t mean it’s not happening. Baby steps are still steps. It might feel like two steps forward, one step back, but each movement brings new insight. No step is wasted.

 

Sometimes, stepping away from a challenge—giving it air and space—allows fresh perspectives to emerge. Just like adding mediums to paint changes its properties, shifting how we engage with time can transform our results.

 

When we stop seeing time as the enemy and start embracing it as part of the process, everything shifts. Just like an artist works with their medium rather than against it, we can work with time instead of feeling pressured by it.

 

So, how are you using time in your own growth? Are you giving yourself space to explore? Are you allowing things to unfold at their own pace? Maybe, just maybe, time isn’t something to fight—it might just be your best creative tool.

 

 
 
 

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